


Go, Baby, Go Go

by lullabelle



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: retconbookwrite, Genderfuck, M/M, Torchwood Novel: Almost Perfect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:26:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lullabelle/pseuds/lullabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the conclusion of "Almost Perfect", Ianto is slowly turning back into himself. Jack keeps them both entertained. Shameless, shameless, genderswappy porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go, Baby, Go Go

**Author's Note:**

> Fore momebie. Beta'd by heddychaa.

Jack’s quarters reek of sex, and that’s really exactly how he likes them. At this point he’s pretty much exhausted poor Ianto, who is passed out half on top of him, wedged between Jack’s body and the concrete wall that Jack’s spartan cot is pushed up against. Ianto’s face is obscured by his attractively sex-tousled hair. He thinks that Ianto’s head has lost some of its unnaturally perfect sheen; he is slowly changing back. Watching him is, Jack thinks, like watching the hour hand of a clock. You can’t see him changing, but every so often Jack will take another look and find him maybe a little taller, his shoulders just a tiny bit broader, his--

“I can _feel_ you staring at me, Jack,” Ianto mumbles into Jack’s chest. He angles his face up, features still hidden by long auburn strands, but his next words are unmuffled. “Cut it out.”

Jack grins and brings his hand to Ianto’s hair, brushing it away until he finds his eyes. He’s pleased to see they’ve regained their original color. They’re Ianto’s eyes again, even if they’re still staring at him from an unfamiliar face. “Can’t help it. Watching you turn back is intriguing. You’re a fascinating work in progress, Ianto Jones.”

Ianto grunts and presses his face back against Jack’s chest. Soon he will be too heavy for this position to be comfortable for Jack, even though he knows Jack would never complain.

“Roll over,” Jack commands, giving his shoulder an encouraging nudge.

Ianto looks up again, blearily, the harsh light from Jack’s reading lamp glaring into his sleepy eyes and making him squint. “No more sex, Jack. I’m tired, and I’m sore in places I shouldn’t even have. I feel like I’ve been horseback riding on a kangaroo. A really big kangaroo.”

“Hopefully the soreness will disappear when your woman-parts do,” Jack says, smoothing his hand down Ianto’s arm.

“Well, my hips aren’t going anywhere.” Ianto reminds him. “They’re just becoming less curvaceous. They’ll still hurt.”

Jack smiles, rests one hand on the allegedly sore hip. “My intentions are pure... ish,” Jack reassures. “I just want to see how far along you are in the process.”

“‘Far along’?”

“Is your cock back?” Jack clarifies.

Ianto groans in exasperation and shifts all the way off of Jack without opening his eyes again. He bends his upper leg so that Jack can slip his hand between. Jack finds his answer quickly, slipping his finger inside where it’s still slick and wet from earlier.

“Purish my arse,” Ianto grumbles. “Be careful, we--” Jack crooks a finger and is pleased to hear Ianto stumble on the word, “--we don’t want me to seal up and have you get your hand stuck in there. Can you imagine having to explain that to a medical professional?”

Jack doesn’t answer, only feels with his thumb for Ianto’s clit, which seems to have disappeared. He searches around a bit, thinking that there’s a joke here, before finally applying pressure to where he thinks it should be, earning him a surprised squeak from Ianto. It’s a good noise, one that Jack might miss hearing from him, just a little. He leans in to kiss him properly, a kiss which is Ianto returns groggily.

“You’re not going to let me go back to sleep, are you?” he accuses.

Jack mock-considers before admitting, “No,”and kissing along his (stubbly) jaw to his throat before pulling away to get a good look down. “I think your cock _is_ coming back. It’s _adorable_.”

“Oh, my god.” Ianto throws one arm over his eyes. The dark is a relief. Sleep would be a bigger relief.

“It’s like a nub. I’m going to play with it,” Jack warns. He wets two fingers in his own mouth before reaching down.

“Jack, your attempts at sexy talk leave something to be de -- _oh_!” Ianto’s head slams back against the wall as his hips push forward against his will.

“Good?”

“Very good.” His breath hisses between his teeth on his next inhale as Jack brushes his thumb against him again. “Almost too much.”

“Hm,” Jack makes a thoughtful sound. “Maybe because all your usual nerve endings are packed into a smaller space?” he muses, moving his thumb again and getting a moan from Ianto, his voice rediscovering a low note that makes Jack shiver. “No more sex, remember?”

“Ignore me,” Ianto advises, knowing Jack would anyway, and trying to keep himself from knocking his head into the wall again.

“If I put my mouth on you, will your head explode?” Jack asks, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Only one way to find out.”

Jack takes that as the invitation it so clearly is, grasping him by the hips and pulling him away from the wall so that he’s lying flat on his back on the tiny bed. Jack kneels over him, looming, and attaches his mouth to Ianto’s neck, deftly finding that place that usually makes him shiver, though evidently it doesn’t do the same things for Christine that it usually does for him. It’s still nice. He knows Jack will work his way down slowly, but Ianto would like to be impatient. He is trying very hard not to roll his hips forward, to grab Jack’s hair and push him down, but he knows this process is more for Jack than him. This slow journey down Ianto’s neck and across his shoulders is both to satisfy his curiosity regarding the changes to Ianto’s body and to formulate a game plan for when he reaches his ultimate destination. Ianto tends to like Jack’s game plans and is willing to wait for them, tortuous as the slow drag of Jack’s mouth across the curve of his breast is before he finally latches onto a nipple and gently applies teeth. It earns Jack a frustrated whimper.

Jack grins cheekily up at him before continuing, nibbling around his naval and rubbing one hand through the soft hair returning on his lower belly. Ianto wiggles a bit. It tickles.

Jack glances up again and then shimmies down to kiss behind one knee.

Now he’s really frustrated. “Cut the shit, Jack!”

“Patience,” Jack admonishes, rubbing his face against Ianto’s thigh. “You’re getting furry again. I like it.”

Ianto lets his head fall back against the pillow, hoping it will hide the blush. It doesn’t, but it makes it easier for him to arch when Jack attaches his mouth to that spot between his legs, that place he’s just borrowing, jabs inside with his tongue. Ianto moans. God, if Jack getting his fingers stuck would be awkward...

“You’re losing definition down here,” Jack tells him. “But you still have--” Long slow lick, in and then up, rewarded with a whine. “Mm, you taste good.”

“So you’ve said,” Ianto replies testily. _Now_ he rolls his hips.

Jack takes the hint, finally, leaning forward to blow across the small protrusion, getting a moan for his trouble. He thinks it might already be bigger than when he felt it with his hand before, but he might just be imagining that. At first he just gently drags his tongue across it, but curiosity makes him apply more pressure on the second pass in an attempt to get a better feel. It’s hard, like a cock, but movable a little. If circumstances were different, he’d be a little worried that it was a tumor or something. Ianto’s hips jerk beneath his hands.

“ _Gently_ ,” Ianto reminds him through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” Jack says, as sincerely as he can manage given the circumstances. He applies a few more slow, soft licks to the sound of some breathy sighs. He then latches his mouth over the little lump of hard flesh and flutters his tongue across it. Ianto shouts and arches, knees bending up and locking around Jack’s ribs. Better. He slows down, not wanting things to be over too quickly. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, relying solely on the noises Ianto’s making (and he fucking loves it when Ianto makes noise) to tell him what he’s doing right, to tell him how close he is. Ianto’s so hypersensitive now, it’s too easy to keep him right on the edge of that precipice without pushing him over. The noises from the head of the bed are turning desperate as Ianto threads one hand through Jack’s hair. Jack can feel the tension in Ianto’s hand as he fights the urge to yank.

Jack runs one hand between Ianto’s legs. His upper thighs are soaked, and Jack brings his now-wet hand down to his throbbing cock. The first pump of his fist makes him moan, and the moan rockets through Ianto, makes him shudder and pull Jack’s hair. This time Jack yields, and lets his head follow the direction of Ianto’s pull. Ianto catches on quickly and, gently but firmly, pushes Jack’s head down, just the tiniest bit, so that Jack’s mouthing the underside of what will soon be Ianto’s cock. Ianto’s head slams back against the pillow and Jack hears his name hiss past Ianto’s lips. Ianto’s hips lift off the bed and Jack pulls his hand away from himself to steady them, push them back down, and it’s the sensation, on top of everything else, of being _held down_ that sends Ianto tumbling into his climax with a wordless yell.

Jack moves his mouth away when he feels it’s becoming too much. He rests his head on Ianto’s thigh and watches him as he gasps through the aftershocks, his face visible between the mounds of his ever-shrinking breasts.

When he finally looks down, Jack grins up at him. “I made you scream.”

Ianto’s still panting. “Get up here,” he orders.

Jack wastes no time in climbing up Ianto’s body, latching their mouths together. Ianto’s mouth is pliable beneath his as Jack explores his teeth (his fillings have reappeared) with the tip of his tongue. Ianto returns Jack’s kiss even as his eyelids begin to droop, the adrenaline, or whatever it was that was fueling him, fading fast after his orgasm.

“Here,” Jack tells him, lifting up so Ianto can move better. “Move over.”

Ianto scoots to the very edge of the cot (he doesn’t have very far to go) and Jack settles himself in behind him, pulling his body flush to Ianto’s back. He guides his cock between those slick, soft thighs and, before Ianto whinges any more about his vagina magically disappearing and taking Jack’s manhood with it, rocks himself between them, once, experimentally. Ianto gives a sleepy hum of approval, so he does it again, sets a slow rhythm, and fights to keep himself from pounding forward, his climax now an imminent, urgent need, one hand roaming across Ianto’s stomach, and fuck, he’s close, he’s so close...

He comes, finally, moaning into Ianto’s sweat-damp hair. Ianto lets one hand drift down to his come-covered thighs, curious, hanging on to consciousness by a thread. Jack rests where he is a moment, pressed against Ianto, warm and waiting for his racing heart to slow and eventually maybe fall into sync. Ianto is well and truly asleep by the time Jack finally disentangles himself and goes to get a damp flannel. He knows Ianto won’t thank him if his legs are stuck together in the morning. He cleans him off with a few quick swipes and then just throws the flannel on the floor to deal with later. He turns the reading lamp off and reclaims his position behind Ianto, spooning, almost as comfortable as before. That’s a _thing_ , isn’t it? Once you move out of a comfortable position, you never quite...

What feels like ten minutes, but the clock tells him is three hours later, the alarm goes off. Jack’s face is mashed against the back of Ianto’s head, or it is until Ianto moves to jam it under the pillow and escape the noise. Jack reaches over him to turn the alarm off, flicking his lamp on in the same movement. He takes a good look at Ianto. Seems like he’s back to normal. Jack lifts the sheet just to be sure. Yup, all there.

He takes mercy on Ianto’s eyes and flicks the light off before taking the pillow away from his head.

“You’re exhausted. No one’s been sleeping well.” Ianto snorts at that, but Jack ignores him. “Sleep in. I’m going to call Gwen and tell her to do the same.”

Ianto makes an appreciative noise and grabs the pillow back. “Good. Wouldn’t do for you to play favorites.”

Jack chuckles and gives his arm a quick squeeze. “Wouldn’t do at all.” Jack has to climb over him in order to stand. “Rest well,” he warns, “because I’m done doing all the work in the bedroom. Tonight, you have to fuck _me_ through the mattress.”

Jack can’t see him in the darkness of his quarters, but he doesn’t think he’s imagining the smile in his voice. “I think I’m up for the challenge.”


End file.
